


i'm only human, can't you see?

by suiyanagawa



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: first person POV, merry christmas!!!!, this gets real deep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 00:10:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17151617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suiyanagawa/pseuds/suiyanagawa
Summary: hi!! sorry it was kind of a word vomit and all, i was kind of sad on christmas eve and ended up writing this.twt ; takamine_p





	i'm only human, can't you see?

Unease prickles my stomach as I grab for my wrists. For an act that was supposed to have been  _ freeing _ , all I can feel is a lump in my throat. Yellow strings wind across my arms, spilling from the tips of my fingers and tilting up into the distant sky. What once was a color I’d associated with myself was something that I now couldn’t hear without suffocating, my lungs clogging with words that couldn’t find their way out. It was trapping my mind inside of itself, as if the strings had wound their way around my neck and held on for dear life. It is a sight which makes the morning sun seem like the beginning of a nightmare, dreary and hopeless. 

My blood runs cold whenever I catch sight of that long, blonde hair in the mirror. I know that if I were truly strong, if I were truly someone that somebody else could look up to… that I would’ve shorn it all off by now, but I’m not. Perhaps I truly am a doll, something best kept locked away in a museum rather than thrown to the masses. The ability not to think for myself is something that I’ve begun to envy. 

When I catch glimpses of breathtaking artwork, of masterful craftsmanship and the still, wooden faces which adorn each and every marionette you control so masterfully, I want to scream. I want to say, ‘why can’t it be me? Why must I be born like this, with a human mind and a human soul? I don’t want to be a human anymore!’

But the yellow strings, they bind my neck, and your ears remain unbothered. Perhaps it’s for the best- no matter how overbearing, how inordinary you’d always been, you chose me. What kind of person would I be to ignore that?

The scissors in my hand are cold, and unfamiliar. They are so much different from your touch, the gentle feeling of silk draped across my skin and soft, smooth hands clasping around my own. You’ve used scissors before, but these are different. These are not graced by your touch, warm and well-worn. I tore these out of the packaging myself, the care and grace which you’ve always used with me having ebbed away as I toss the material away. As I toss away everything I’ve ever known, and the safety that I’ve always found in your arms. It has always been a choice, this conflict of interest- the difference between feeling secure, and feeling  _ free.  _

With these strings attached to my fingers, I am sure that I won’t be able to fall any further. You’ve always been there to hold me up, to make sure that every single move of mine is the pinnacle of human nature. I will never have to worry about stepping out of your grace, because I know that you hold me above everyone else that you know. I know that the devotion that you hold outmatches no other, and that I will  _ never  _ be alone when I’m with you.

However, the strings you pull are strings too high for me to reach, too far away for someone like me to ever understand. You revere me, but you’re simply someone too talented to even begin to compare myself with- I am groundbreakingly  _ normal _ , at least when held up to par with your skill. I am, frankly, not a masterpiece. I’m a normal kid, aren’t I? I’m someone who wants to live a normal life, something that the strings will never give me the pleasure of experiencing. If I’m a living, breathing human… I can’t be made for dancing around on strings.

And so I raise the metal in my hand, moonlight tinting the blade as I hold it up against the window. I will forever be someone you cannot look at, someone you cannot think of without that unsettling pit forming in your stomach. You’ll remember the person who broke your heart. Perhaps, it’s better to live out a lie, a stage play, rather to break something as fragile as you.

And in that moment, I realize that I’m starting to sound like someone else I know, and I  _ cut.  _ With the falling strands of yellow across my shoulders, there are holes beginning to grow in the strings. Loosening from their hold on my arms, they spiral across the floor, decorating the room with a miserable melody. Bright yellow has faded to a dark, royal blue, and I cannot help but stare as the world changes color right in front of my eyes. Dyed tones of midnight, my fingers find the edge of that telltale mirror once more, fingertips pressing against the wooden frame.

It’s certainly a sight for sore eyes. It’s someone I haven’t seen in a long while- someone I wasn’t sure would ever be able to return. It is a heartbreaking, traitorous, unfortunately  _ normal  _ person, but…    
  
“It’s me,” I choke, a hand instinctively moving to my throat, where the strings have faded into nothingness. I’m free, now. 

“It’s me.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! sorry it was kind of a word vomit and all, i was kind of sad on christmas eve and ended up writing this.
> 
> twt ; takamine_p


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